Rock Me To Sleep
by QueenOfQuiet17
Summary: All Karen wants is someone to rock her to sleep. K/G fic inspired by the song "Rock Me To Sleep" by Jill Sobule. A line or two from the song is used.


I wish I had somebody to rock me to sleep.

He didn't come back; with everything I said, I never really expected him to. I just always thought on some level, he knew everything that I was about to tell him. And when I looked at him as he stared blankly at the television screen, I knew that I couldn't hold on any longer. He never spoke to me; he just let me get everything out that I needed to. I felt stuck. We've been on this routine that makes life seem like one long day, and it needed to change. And as I took a breath and settled back in my chair, he stood up and walked out the door.

Looking back on it now, I regret bringing everything up when we're miles away from home. I shouldn't even be here right now; the plan was for Stan to take care of whatever business he needed to do here while I stayed home, but I wanted to come. I wanted to tell him. I knew that if I did this, I would feel lonely as he shut the door. But now that I'm in a place I haven't known until now, I have no one. And now, as I watch the clock's electric red cry, "6:00 AM," I wish I had someone here with me.

I wish I had my father. He would have walked in and taken me in his arms, he wouldn't have cared if my tears rolled onto his sleeve. He would have stayed with me until he knew that I was okay, and even then, he wouldn't leave right away. I miss him. I wish I had my mother, as crazy as that sounds. All those years wanting to get away, and when I finally do, I long for her presence next to me. Even with everything she put me through, there were those times when she would listen to my problems.

I wish I had you.

He doesn't know everything; he just knows what I expected him to, what I told him, what he had been oblivious to all this time. I could never tell him where my heart truly lies, who it truly belongs to. If he didn't storm out, he would laugh in my face, and I couldn't take the latter. He wouldn't understand; he wouldn't see it. The way you bring a certain glow to a room when you walk into it. The way you softly tuck your hair behind your ear or let your fingers delicately walk the pages of your sketchpad, the little things that show what a gentle person you are. He would never notice these things. But it's the small details you carry with you that make me wish you would take my hand, and my heart.

It belongs to you, Grace. I just wish you would see it laying there for the taking, give it your touch and turn it back to the warm, loving thing it used to be. That's all I need.

I fell asleep after he walked out, thinking of you in your home, blissfully content and unaware of this pain I drag with me. And when I woke up at three in the morning to find myself still alone, I almost thought I heard your voice echoing through the room, and I realized that if I lay still in this bed and focus on the ceiling, I can piece together an image of you to keep me company. It may not be much, but it's all I have.

Two days before I left, I came so close to you. We were alone in the office, and I was watching you work, following your pencil as you were in the process of making someone's dream home a reality, smiling as you took a step back to examine your work. But it all made me realize that I could never take you in my arms, tell you everything I've been wanting to for so long. You must hate the person I've been to you, this cold woman who thinks she's better than everyone else just because she has money and power. I wish I could show you the fragile being behind the mask, but if I do, I know that everything else will come out. And the thought of that made my smile fade. And when you looked at me, you knew something was wrong.

I made up some excuse: problems with Stan. In all fairness, I wasn't really lying to you, but he was never on my mind when you were around. You never knew that. And when I began to delve into everything in my personal life, you made your way towards me, put your hand on my shoulder. Oh, to feel your touch. I never wanted you to let go, Grace. You took your hand in mine, inched the slightest bit towards me, looked into my eyes, and for a moment, I thought this was your way of telling me that you felt the same way. And as I leaned in to brush my lips against yours, you pulled away, and whispered the words I never wanted to hear from you. Those four words that so easily broke my heart and left me alone again, like I always was on some level.

"What are you doing?"

I couldn't answer you. I rushed out of the building, hoping you wouldn't catch me. The next day, I came in to find you at your desk, looking up at me when I walked in. "Karen…" you started.

"Stop." I handed you a piece of paper with the hotel's address on it, the room I'd be staying in with Stan. Told you that there was a sudden change of plans, that I was going with him, to not expect me at work anytime soon. And I left. I didn't even give you a chance to speak. You could have wanted to apologize, to tell me that it was a mistake and you never wanted to push me away.

But a big part of me doubted that.

And now, I kept you at bay, I drove Stan away, and the only things to keep me company are the clock's electric red and some fuzzy, fading image of you on the ceiling as the streetlights lose their lives to the rising sun.

Now, all I really want is for you to walk in through that door, take me in your arms, lay me down and rock me to sleep.

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She couldn't stop thinking about what could have been. And a small part of her was screaming at her to stop. Was this really the same person she was thinking about? Karen? She had known her for years, and she had never acted like this. Maybe this was who she truly was. She looked so broken when Grace pulled away; she hated to just shatter her like that, with no regard for her feelings. She hated herself for that.

On some level, Grace had always felt something more for Karen, but she had learned to keep it hidden, to push it further and further into the dark recess of her mind until even she had forgotten about it. But that night, the kiss that almost happened, that never was, brought it all back into plain sight. The way she always smiled when she heard Karen's name. The way she would do anything to get her to talk, to hear her voice, her spin on the simplest words. It all came back to her. And she knew what she had to do.

It's why she was at the door, waiting for Karen to answer.

She knocked twice, and when there was no answer, she tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. She closed it softly behind her, took a step inside. She could see her lying on the bed, fingers playing with the generic white sheets as she was looking up at the ceiling. God, she was beautiful. Grace took another step forward when she realized. She had probably ruined any chance of Karen wanting to see her again. Her visit would most likely be an unwanted one; she should leave now before Karen ever noticed that she was there in the first place. She turned her back, began to walk towards the door.

Until she heard her voice.

"Grace…"

She turned around to find Karen sitting upright, her tear-stained and weary face revealing the woman she truly was, the one Grace would do anything to be able to take care of. She walked towards the bed, picking up her speed with each step until her lips were locked with Karen's, until she could feel her arms wrapped around her. She had to make it better. She had to make it right.

"Karen, I am so…"

"Don't," Karen replied with a smile.

"I never meant to hurt you, I was just so scared. I was so insensitive." She kissed her again just to feel her, to know that she is truly there. "I love you. I need to make it better."

Karen looked into her eyes, graced her fingertips against Grace's cheek. "Just stay with me now."

Grace nodded as she took Karen in her arms, let her lay down, kissed the crown of her head. She pulled her in closer as she moved back and forth ever so slowly, taking in the feeling of Karen's weight in her arms, how great it truly felt to be able to hold her in a way she never thought she would be able to.

Karen wrapped her arms around Grace's waist, rested her head on her chest, listened to her heartbeat, a sort of makeshift lullaby. And as her eyes grew heavier and heavier with sleep, she mustered up enough strength for a smile. She had finally found someone to rock her to sleep.


End file.
